


Origins

by inlovewithnight



Category: Bandom, Cobra Starship
Genre: Canon Jewish Character, Collection: Purimgifts Day 1, Family, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-21
Updated: 2013-02-21
Packaged: 2017-11-30 00:32:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/693302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inlovewithnight/pseuds/inlovewithnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Midtown ends, Gabe thinks that's it, he's done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Origins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alpheratz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpheratz/gifts).



When Midtown ends, Gabe thinks that's it, he's done. Everything is bullshit. Everything is ashes.

He breaks his lease, packs up half of what he owns and leaves the other half behind, and goes back to his father's house. Papi always told him he was welcome to come home at any time, no matter what, and -- well, right now he needs to test that.

Eric is in his old bedroom, and Ricky's room is now an office, so he sleeps on the couch in the den. His stepmother is nice about it, but he can tell she wonders what the fuck is going on and when the fuck he's going to leave and let them get on with their life. Their new life, the one that doesn't really involve him except as a holiday sideshow.

He hears her talking with his dad about it in the kitchen, once -- and he hears Papi's response. "Give him time. I know my Gabriel. He needs time, but then he will move forward. He will not stand still forever."

Nice to have someone have confidence in him, even if he can't muster any for himself.

The next day, he picks his dad up from work and takes him to the diner. They split a plate of fries and each get a cup of coffee with a slice of pie, and Gabe's chest hurts so badly that he starts talking to make it stop.

He's thinking about selling his guitars, or maybe burning them. Maybe he'll teach Spanish in high schools, spend his life on the youth wasteland in a different way. Maybe he'll go back to sharking card games for a living. Maybe he'll fucking jump off the George Washington Bridge and spare the world the trouble.

Papi sips his coffee slowly, and watches him, and doesn't interrupt. When Gabe lapses into angry silence, tears stinging his eyes but refusing to fall, Papi reaches across the table and taps his knuckles against it in front of Gabe's chest.

"You are wrestling with God."

Gabe stares at him. "I didn't mention God even once in any of that."

"You would say you are struggling with the universe. It is the same thing."

"I don't even believe in God."

"As I said, it is the same thing. Our people have had this argument, this struggle, for thousands of years. You are part of a great tradition. And you will endure, mijo. You will come to a peace."

"You can't know that."

"Ah, yes." Papi draws his hand back and picks up his coffee. "As you have told me since you were thirteen, I know nothing."

Gabe lapses into sullen silence until they get home, but some uneasy part of his brain can't help but think about how in all of those years, his father has never _actually_ been wrong.

He spends another week on the couch, staring blankly at crappy reruns and worse game shows. And then one day, godfuckingdamnit, he wakes up, grabs for a pen, and writes a stream of lyrics down his arm.

He plays "Being From Jersey" for his dad a few days later. When he finishes, Diego wipes tears from his eyes, but he's smiling.

"Don't say you told me so," Gabe warns him, trying not to let his own tears fall.

"You wrestle with God beautifully, niño," Diego says, and opens his arms.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Image inspired by asofterworld.com; text from "Being From Jersey Means Never Having To Say You're Sorry."


End file.
